The Perfect Illusion

I'm Really Tired

Narrator's POV

"Hah! Ah!" Stephen huffed as he avoided attacks from other Zealots that attacked him at the same time. "Ngh!" He conjured a red glow rope and wrapped it around one of the Zealot's throat, raising her up and throwing her into a pillar in the courtyard.

"He seems to be better."

"Yes." Kaecilius said. "All that torture we've put him through has taught him to fight for his life." He watched Stephen from the balcony of the second floor.

"AH!" Stephen raised his hand, forming large crystals in the sky and dropped them on some of the Zealots.

The crystals shattered onto the Zealots, impaling them with shards.

"It's a world where you kill or get killed." Kaecilius said. "And he cannot afford to be killed. We need him to give our master a form."

"But what makes him qualified to do so?"

"His power." Kaecilius said. "He has great potential, nonetheless, but it's all about what's inside of him. He holds such strength, such power. None of the others have what he has, even I am not his equal." He explained. "His form will be able to take Dormammu's strength, allowing our dark lord to finally take a shape in this world and conquer it. Anyone else would wither away and fall apart with such power stored in them. Their mind would start to collapse trying to comprehend what has been granted to them, and they would die, but Strange...Strange is a strong and powerful sorcerer. He will be able to take it. He and Dormammu will be one, and they will become the most powerful being in the Multiverse."

"Argh!" Stephen groaned when he was attacked from behind and brought down on one knee. He turned back to see who had attacked him.

A Zealot holding up a staff stood behind him.

Stephen snarled, forming a yellow glow in his hands and taking the Zealot with it, lifting him into the air.

"Ah!" The Zealot groaned.

Stephen's eyes glowed yellow as he brought his hands together, constrictioning the Zealot.

"Strange." Kaecilius called.

"Alright! Alright!" The Zealot shouted.

"No." Stephen said, continuing his torture on the Zealot. He pulled his hands apart slowly.

"Argh!" The Zealot groaned as he was being stretched.

"Strange thats enough." Kaecilius said.

"Hm." Stephen sighed, stopping his magic and dropping the Zealot.

"Ah-!" The Zealot has little time to react and fell to the ground, snapping his neck.

"You never let me play with them." Stephen said.

"You need to learn some self control." Kaecilius said, opening a portal next to Stephen.

Stephen unwrapped his hands, tossing his wraps over his shoulder. He looked down at his knuckles. "I thought you wanted me to fight at my full potential." He massaged his sore hands.

"Your powers are growing stronger and stronger everyday." Kaecilius said, stepping in front of Stephen, stopping him. "But you cannot go about, killing whoever you'd like."

"I thought that's what you wanted." Stephen said, tightening his fists. "Momentary specks in a vast Multiverse, no?"

"You need to learn to control yourself  before we learn to control you." Kaecilius said.

Stephen looked at him. "Hmph." He stepped aside, bumping his shoulder against Kaecilius as he walked past him.

"Hm." Kaecilius raised his chin. He raised his hand.

"What the hell?" Stephen asked as he began to come off the ground. He looked around, seeing Kaecilius behind him with his hand up. "Put me down."

Kaecilius turned to Stephen with a smirk. "No." He said. "You need to be taught your place."

///0///0

"STOP! Stop." Stephen yelped in pain.

He had been taken to the Extraction Chamber, this was where any prisoner to the Zealots and Dormammu was taken to torture whether it be to get information from them or just for pleasure.

Stephen had dozens of crystal needles being dug deep in his hands.

"You think you're the one in charge here, hm?" Kaecilius asked. "You are nothing. You are no one."

Stephen's breathing was slowly and hard. "You...you said it yourself. I am the ruler of this Universe. You should all be looking up at me."

"Not yet." Kaecilius said. "Not until Dormammu gets here, you're nothing but a simple sorcerer."

"I-ARGH!" Stephen groaned as the needles continued to go in deeper.

"You do not disobey my orders." Kaecilius said. "Nor should you disrespect me, is that understood?"

"Fuck off-AH!" Stephen gasped.

"What was that?"

"YES!" Stephen shouted. "YES!"

"Good." Kaecilius smiled, relieving Stephen from his torture.

"Hah-" Stephen fell to the ground. He stayed down.

His body couldn't possibly go on.

He was so tired, he was exhausted. He was miserable.

"Now get up." Kaecilius said. "We can't have you looking like this for our master." He walked out of the chamber.

///0///0

Stephen walked into his quarters, closing the door behind him, limping and almost falling to the ground, but was caught by the cloak that hurried to his side. "Get off of me." Stephen pushed it aside.

The cloak stood there, watching Stephen take a few more steps before almost falling over again and having to catch him again.

Stephen sighed, finally giving up. "Thank you." He said.

The cloak helped him to the bed, carefully helping him sit up on it. It stood next to the bed.

"Ah..." Stephen sighed, letting his aching body sink into the bed. He looked down at his hands. He was bleeding through the white bandages he had wrapped around them. "God." He said under his breath, setting down onto his lap.

Everything hurt, he needed some relief.

He reached for the drawer in the nightstand next to him. "Ah!" He hissed when he felt a pain in his side. He felt around, feeling a strong pain when he ran his hand over it. "Fuck." He groaned, slowly lifted his shirt, checking his side.

His side was fine, but there was a wound above in his ribcage.

"What the hell?" He asked, looking closer at it.

This had been from the day when he failed to kill Tony. It should've healed by now.

He removed his shirt, getting up from the bed. "Ngh!"

The cloak came to his aid.

"Bathroom. Now." He said.

The cloak helped him to the bathroom.

Stephen turned his back to the mirror.

The slash across his back was still there. It, too, should've healed long ago.

The little mark on his neck was still too.

His eyes widen. "Cloak." He said.

The cloak helped him once again, taking him back to the bed.

Stephen ripped the drawer from the nightstand and emptied it onto the floor. He let himself fall in the ground, searching for something desperately. "Where is it?" He asked himself, searching for it.

Then he finally found it.

The little dart Bruce had shot him with.

He looked at it, turning it, looking for some sort of label on it.

There was nothing.

There was only one way he was gonna find out what it contained and was still inside of him.